


angels again

by worry



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-25 08:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9810518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: In which I rewrite the entirety of Shadowhunters season 2 fueled by my bitterness. Featuring: Luke & Jocelyn and the correct amount of "screentime" for Luke (a main character), sapphic characters, Simon getting a real coming out arc, LGBT characters written by an actual gay person, no incest angst (or incest at all), Jace being happy and safe, Magnus and Alec getting the treatment they deserve, and more!Starts out in a canon divergence AU where Luke killed Valentine in 1x13 and Camille is the main villain.





	1. this innocent blood

It's been too long since he's had Jocelyn in his arms. 

 

Her sleep hurt Luke more than he could show; going without Jocelyn was like going without an essential part of his being, but he went on and endured, knowing instinctively that she would find her way back. He continued because he had to, and now he's holding Jocelyn, feeling her breathe relief, essential part of him _back_. Jocelyn is with him, Clary and Simon are safe, and the world, for once, is back to normal. Everything is okay now. Everything will be fine. Everything spins on. The world may be breaking, but they'll put it back together. The world may be breaking, but they can survive anything.

 

"Are you okay?" Jocelyn asks, words against his neck. "Luke, are you okay?"

 

"Valentine's dead."

 

Jocelyn pulls back suddenly, looks him in the eyes. Eyes so full of love. A true, real love.

 

"He's dead? Luke, did you..."

 

"I killed him," he says softly. "It's all over now."

 

"Was it... hard?" she asks, taking his hands.

 

"The opposite, actually," he replies. "It was easy. It was... relieving."

 

"I love you," Jocelyn whispers, and hugs him again. It feels like it has been centuries without him, without stability.

 

* * *

 

 "How - how are you doing? With all of this, I mean. You know, your dad is dead, and Jace is your - you know. I need to know you're okay."

 

"I don't know," Clary admits; she isn't okay, she hasn't been okay since that night at Pandemonium, her world is continually crumbling around her and she seems to leave ruin wherever she goes. It's a sickness that she can't get rid of. Clary Fray and ruining. She needs to get better. She needs to  _be_ better. She's not strong enough. She's crumbling like her world.

 

Everything should be safe now. Everything should be okay.

 

She isn't okay. There's an overwhelming feeling of dread that has made a home inside of her.

 

"It's fine not to know. Obviously. But you can tell me anything, you know that. Plus, I probably understand whatever you're going through, 'cause, you know, I died and all."

 

Clary laughs. No matter what happens, she will always have Simon.

 

"I just need some time to process it all, I guess," she tells him. "Thank you, Simon."

 

"Hey, yeah, no problem," he says. "Take all the time you need."

 

Time.

 

The thought of time makes Simon sick; it is the first sickness that he has felt since turning. One day Clary will be bones, what he should be, one day Clary will be  _dead,_ and he will be eternally eighteen years old. Forever young, like his song, in the most literal sense. He has time. Too much time. There's just too much  _time_ between them. He loves every part of Clary and he always will, even when she's gone. He'll move on, one day. He'll find someone else to feel for.

 

In this moment, however, he's existing with her. In this moment his best friend needs him.

 

"Hey," he says, changing the subject. "Now that we're at least kinda safe, how do you feel about coming over and..."

 

He stops. He has nowhere to go.  _Come over and watch some mindless TV with me just like old, pre-Shadowhunter times._ He's alone. He's homeless. The only place that accepted him is gone. He can't go home because he's afraid that he'll hurt his family, and this is what Simon has become: just fear. Just walking, undead  _fear._

 

Clary raises her eyebrows. 

 

"Yeah," Simon says. "Um. Forget that."

 

"You'll be okay," she reassures him. "We're always okay."

 

Simon smiles. Then he remembers the fact that he let an evil merciless terrifying vampire go free to wreak havoc on the entire world, and the fear consumes him again. All that Simon is capable of doing nowadays is hurting  _someone._ Hurting his family, hurting Clary, hurting Raphae-

 

That doesn't matter. He doesn't matter now because he wants Simon  _dead._ The short-lived life of Simon Lewis and the New York Vampire Clan is over now.

 

"I love you," Simon says. "Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without you."

 

"You'd lose your mind without me."

 

Clary and Simon both laugh. They'll always have each other.

 

(Not always. They both know that it'll end, but - as Jocelyn told Simon to calm his anxiety, as she told Clary to comfort her -  _one day at a time._ Time. One day at a time. Everything will be okay.)

 

* * *

 

"Why are we here, Izzy?"

 

Isabelle pats him on the shoulder. "Because Valentine is manipulative and we don't have any  _proof_ that Clary's your sister. This will tell us if you're actually related."

 

Jace smiles. He loves it when his sister talks science. He loves everything about her, but the small things are what make her the most beautiful; her laughter, her love of science, her ability to kill demons while wearing six-inch heels, her love for her family, her fierceness. His family is the entire world, the universe that Jace just lives in.

 

"So you want us to do a DNA test?" Clary asks. She's standing next to Isabelle, peering over her shoulder at some old paperwork she filled out. She doesn't understand much of it - she's an artist, not a scientist - but she understands that Isabelle's brain is beautiful. Everything about Isabelle Lightwood is beautiful.

 

"Yes. You're okay with that, right?"

 

Clary nods emptily; she's _scared._ She's shaking. Everything is crumbling, like her stability. Isabelle's hope and faith is endearing, but Clary is  _scared._ If the test results come back and they truly  _are_ related...

 

Part of her would feel broken, ripped apart.

 

But another part of her would feel saved.

 

She doesn't understand it. She loves Jace. She  _should_ love Jace. Loving Jace is supposed to be right. She loves Jace because that's what she's supposed to do.

 

(Her emotions scare her.)

 

Clary sits in silence until Isabelle finishes swabbing their cheeks. Then she walks back to her room, falls fragile onto her bed, and tries to forget.

 

* * *

 

Alec grabs his arm before he can leave the Institute, makes his voice as soft as possible when he says Magnus' name. Magnus, I want to help you. Magnus, I'll do anything I can. Magnus. Magnus. Saying his name feels  _right._

 

"Yes, Alexander?"

 

"I just wanted to, um... check on you. Because of what happened with Camille. I don't want you to be upset."

 

Magnus smiles slightly; it is a smile born out of wistfulness rather than joy. Magnus cherishes Alec. Alec is special. 

 

But Alec is new. 

 

"I'm not upset," Magnus says. "I'll be fine. I'm just..."

 

"Just what?"

 

"Just nervous, that's all. I have colorful history, let's say, with her. When Raphael said he captured her I didn't know how to feel, but now... it's strange."

 

"We'll do everything in our power to find her," Alec says. Hesitantly, he takes Magnus' hand, and Magnus sinks into his touch. Alec is the most comforting thing that he knows. Magnus has never been this  _comfortable._

 

They share this intimacy for a few minutes, Magnus staring up into Alec's eyes and Alec holding him closer. Other Shadowhunters around them are staring, but none of them matter;  _Magnus_ is what matters right now. Magnus and Alec and everything between them. 

 

Then: "Hey, sorry to bother you, you two are the  _cutest,_ but um..."

 

Alec doesn't  _hate_ Simon. Alec doesn't  _hate_ anyone except Camille Belcourt and Valentine Morgenstern. But Simon is coming  _very close_ to hatred.

 

"What is it, Simon?"

 

"I have a question to ask Magnus, and it's kinda embarrassing, but I don't really have a choice here."

 

Magnus pulls away from Alec slowly. "Okay, ask away."

 

Simon sighs. Everything in his mind is on repeat: an image of a world where he didn't betray Raphael - his only place to stay - and an image of a world where he's still human and an image of a world where Shadowhunters don't exist at all. He likes living in these worlds, sometimes. He used to sit in bed at the Hotel DuMort daydreaming (something that Raphael said was  _useless,_ something that Raphael said he did long ago, something that Raphael told him needed to stop because  _you are what you are now)._ He used to daydream. It used to be real.

 

Now: "Magnus, do you have a spare room at your place?"

 

Magnus rolls his eyes, but Simon knows that it's playful. "I  _guess._ "

 

"Thank you - thank you  _so_ much," Simon says. He's given up on trying to train the desperation out of his voice. Simon's entire being has become desperate.

 

"You're welcome," Magnus says, and turns to Alec. "Raincheck?"

 

"Raincheck," Alec agrees.

 

"Let's go."

 

 

* * *

 

Simon learned a lot about the downworld in his very short time at the Hotel DuMort.

 

What he didn't learn, however, is that portal travel makes you _nauseous._ It's the most nauseous Simon has ever been in his unlife. He has to stand up straight, holding a hand over his mouth, for longer than is probably socially acceptable in case he loses his liquid lunch. He'd feel a lot better if he wasn't doing this around the High Warlock of Brooklyn, Alec Lightwood's boyfriend, because Magnus has always been slightly intimidating and Simon has never been able to figure out  _why._

 

"Ah, I forgot to warn you about that," Magnus says, watching him squirm.  "Portalling takes a little getting used to. It should pass quickly."

 

"Right, yeah," Simon says, voice muffled by his fingers. When the nausea fades, he lowers his hand and adds, "I really appreciate this, Magnus. I don't know how to thank you."

 

(I don't know how to thank you seems  _familiar,_ but Simon doesn't remember why. It feels, somehow, like a ghost.)

 

"Spare room is upstairs," Magnus tells him. "Before you go, though, I'd like to talk to you."

 

Simon shouldn't be scared. It's Magnus. Magnus Bane, who is generously letting Simon into his home, who is treating Simon with love and respect. Simon is thankful, but Magnus wants to  _talk_ to him, said in what Simon read as a  _harsh tone,_ and Simon is scared. He shouldn't be scared. It's Magnus.

 

"Um, okay."

 

Magnus motions for him to follow. "Why don't you have a seat?"

 

Suddenly the entire apartment is just Simon, Magnus, and two very uncomfortable looking chairs.

 

Simon sits. He doesn't need to breathe but he's breathing. He doesn't need to be scared but he's scared anyway. Simon is -  _broken._

 

"No need to be scared," Magnus tells him, still in that "harsh tone". "I know you know of my history with Camille, and I'll get more into that later, but I don't think you know about my history with Raphael."

 

Fuck.

 

Raphael.

 

"You're right, I don't, and I'm not exactly sure I like where this conversation is going, so..."

 

" _Simon._ "

 

"Shutting up now."

 

"As I was saying, I know both of them intimately. Raphael is like a son to me. Long ago, I took him in."

 

"Hold on," Simon interrupts (again), because he's a huge idiot when he's scared. "Are you like - is this when you threaten to hurt me because I betrayed him or whatever? Like in the movies? Because I didn't mean to, I swear—"

 

"Simon."

 

"Sorry."

 

"I'm not going to  _threaten_ you. What do you think I am? No, I was going to say that I know him, and because I know him, I know that he won't be mad at you for very long if you just apologize, okay? I understand why you did what you did, but I have, um,  _experience_ with Camille. She's extremely dangerous, and both you and Raphael are in danger. You two need to work together. Most importantly, you need to _find_ her."

 

"What, are you kidding me?" Simon asks, and regrets it immediately. He bites his lip. "I mean, sorry, but he did, you know, tell the clan to kill me."

 

"You'll have to work that out with him," Magnus says, and snaps his fingers. Within moments, soft classical music begins to play from a nearby stereo, and Simon's breathing slows. It's his cue to leave, he knows that, and now the only thing on his mind, instead of images of previous and imaginary lives, is family.

 

* * *

 

"So," Jocelyn says, climbing into her bed next to Luke. "Did anything - besides Valentine - happen while I was asleep?"

 

Luke smiles at her softly. "A lot, actually."

 

"How much?"

 

"Well," Luke says, putting his arm around her, "I don't know if Clary told you, but..."

 

"What?"

 

"Simon's a vampire now."

 

Jocelyn's face twists, from shock to grief and, finally, to relief. Luke knows she's thinking about Simon dying and Clary grieving. At least he's here. At least he's safe. He may be a vampire but he's still  _here,_ and they're both thankful for that.

 

"Oh."

 

"Yeah."

 

"How is he dealing with that?"

 

Luke sighs. "He says it's fine, but I've been there. I'm doing everything I can to help."

 

Jocelyn curls into him. "I love you," she says. "I'll never stop saying that."

 

Luke kisses her forehead. Jocelyn in his arms is safety. _Jocelyn_ is safety. They love each other in a way that can never be explained. A love too good for words.

 

There's a knock on the bedroom door. Clary's voice comes in softly. _Mom? Luke?_

 

"Come in, Clary," he says.

 

Clary walks in and throws herself between them, wiping tears from her face. Jocelyn strokes her hair and Luke holds her hand; they're all thinking the same thing: finally. Finally, they're all together again. Their family is together again and nothing else matters. This is their world now. This is Luke, Jocelyn, and Clary's world, the way everything should be.

 

* * *

 

 Alec has never been good with physical affection, but Jace needs him. At the end of it all, there will always be Alec, Isabelle, and Jace. Forever.

 

"Jace," Isabelle says, holding his arm, "everything's gonna be fine, okay? We're here for you."

 

"We're always here for you," Alec adds as Jace rests his head against Alec's shoulder. "Whatever you're feeling right now is okay. We'll support you no matter what."

 

"Thank you."

 

Isabelle wraps her arms around both of them, whispers  _I love you._

 

The world of Alec, Isabelle, Jace, Clary, Luke, Simon, and Magnus finally begins to _mend_. 

 


	2. a path into the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus and Alec make plans for their first date, Luke and Isabelle investigate the influx of dead bodies drained of blood that are popping up all over Brooklyn, Simon and Raphael have a chat, and Jace and Clary deal with their realization.

"Clary, I am so sorry."

 

Clary sinks into Luke's touch; she's  _dead._ They haven't talked in years, graduated high-school together hand-in-hand like old times. She was headed for success as an aspiring engineer. 4.0 GPA. Intelligent. And now she's cold and limp on the street, body pale, neck ripped open and desecrated. Entire body bloody, entire body desecrated. Clary knew her. Clary loved her. Clary's still mourning the life she lost when the Shadow world started to consume her.

 

She pulls away from Luke and does what she does best: fakes it. She's always been good at lying, as all teenagers are, and if she doesn't put on her smile - well. If she doesn't put on her smile, they'll sense her grief, and that's something that she just  _can't deal with._ Clary is strong. She'll make it through this.

 

"It's - it's okay."

 

Jace moves closer. He considers comforting her for one moment, and then he  _remembers_ and everything falls. It's what he can never have. It's what he - it's what he shouldn't want. 

 

Does Jace want this? Did he  _ever_ want this? Before Valentine's -

 

That thought doesn't matter right now. There's a dead mundane that he needs to deal with. Emotions cloud judgement.

 

"Clary," he asks. "Did you know her?"

 

She rips herself away from the body. "Yeah," she says, closing her eyes. "We, um, went to school together."

 

"I'm so sorry."

 

"It doesn't matter now," she says, and turns to Luke, who watches her with a soft expression. "You think Camille did this?"

 

"It's definitely possible," Luke replies. "That, or she's got other vamps doing her dirty work. Either way, I don't think it's a coincidence that the victim was a friend of yours."

 

Clary shivers -  _friend._ Were they friends? Or did she -

 

There are a lot of things that don't matter. Whatever Clary felt for her is gone now, died like she did. Clary was young and confused. It's normal to be confused. It's  _dead_ now, her feelings are  _dead,_ her best friend is  _dead,_ everything is just  _dead._

 

"Go back to the Institute," Luke tells them. "I'll call Isabelle, see if she can help me. Be safe."

 

Clary walks back, hands around Jace's arm. Neither of them speak. There's nothing to talk about besides the ever-present  _death._

 

* * *

 

"I'm going to kill her, Simon."

 

Clary keeps her voice low. No one wants Magnus to overhear her plan to kill his ex-lover. Clary doesn't even have a plan yet; she's fueled only by passion and hatred, and anyone who thinks they can get in Clary's way when she's passionate is asking for trouble. Camille kills and abuses. Clary is  _determined,_ and all that Clary has ever needed is determination.

 

"You don't even know if it was Camille," Simon says. Desperate attempt to calm her down.  _He doesn't know._ "Besides, she's, like, six hundred years old and really powerful and okay, not to be rude or anything, but you were raised as a mundane and you barely have any training. She'd probably rip you apart in three seconds."

 

"I'll have people to help me."

 

"Like who?"

 

"Jace, Alec, Izzy, Luke and the wolves. You and the other vampires."

 

"Whoa," Simon says, throwing his hands into the air. "Hold on. I'd do anything for you - you know that - but, um, Camille killed me, and, you know, every other vampire in New York hates me, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm not experienced either. Plus, you can't really just _expect_ the wolves to help you kill an extremely dangerous bitch vamp who they're probably terrified of."

 

Clary sighs, releases her tension. "Sorry. You're right. I just..."

 

"I get it. I know you loved her."

 

"I didn't  _love_ her," Clary says. She sounds angry and she knows it, but she can't bring herself to be anything but bitter, anything but determined. "We were friends. Not like that."

 

"I didn't mean it like that, Clary. Are you - are you, like, feeling okay?"

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Really?"

 

"Really, Simon."

 

Simon smiles. "Okay."

 

He hugs her. She is his  _everything._

 

* * *

 

 

They don't get very good cell reception in "abandoned churches", but Alec's voice, although muffled and static over the phone, is beautiful. Alec is beautiful. Magnus has seen everything but nothing so exquisite as Alec Lightwood.

 

"Hey," Alec says. "Sorry if I woke you up."

 

"No, no," Magnus tells him. "I was already awake. Why are  _you_ up this late, Alexander?"

 

It's four o'clock in the morning. Magnus has been up for hours,  _thinking._ About Simon, about Raphael, about Alec, but mostly about  _Camille._ The history of Magnus and Camille. This is a nice distraction. Alec pulls him into the present, reminds him of every good thing that he has, everything he is thankful for.

 

"Just because of work," he replies. "Listen, um, I know we really didn't get a chance to..."

 

Magnus smiles. "Go on our first date?"

 

"Yes!" he says, and the excitement in Alec's voice is the most endearing thing that Magnus has ever heard. It is -  _beautiful._

 

"Perfect. Where would you like to go? The world is your oyster. Literally."

 

"Oh, um..."

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"I didn't really think about that."

 

"It's okay," Magnus laughs. "I think I know the perfect place. When you are available? I'm free whenever you are."

 

There's another faint voice in the background. "I have to go," Alec says. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Magnus, uh - I'll let you know."

 

"Okay, good."

 

"Bye."

 

The call ends and Magnus smiles; he finally feels calm enough to sleep.

 

* * *

 

"This is the sixth vamp-related death I've seen in the past few days," Luke says. "Do you see anything unusual?"

 

Isabelle bends down to the victim's neck and studies it, presses around the bite-marks. She's looking for other clues, Luke knows, and they've only been working together for about ten minutes but they work together wonderfully. He understands why Clary adores her. 

 

She sighs. "Besides the bite? No, nothing."

 

"It has to be Camille. Damn it."

 

"Is this another one of Clary's friends?" she asks, confusion growing on her face. The thought of Clary upset makes her rage. The thought of Clary upset makes Isabelle want to take the sky and wrap it around her -  _here, I'll keep you safe, I'll take care of this._ Clary doesn't deserve any of this pain. No one deserves this pain, but Clary has always tried to fix, Clary has always tried her hardest, and Clary is  _important._ Clary is interesting, Clary is wonderful, Clary is  _essential._

 

"No," Luke replies. "Just a random mundane."

 

"And, wait, didn't we  _free_ her? Why would she go after the people who helped her? This doesn't make sense."

 

"I don't think she's a big fan of sense."

 

"Yeah, but..."

 

Luke looks down at the body. He was well dressed, covered completely in funeral black. Now his skin is stained a deep red, now his clothes are soaking, now he is  _dead,_ now they have to stop her. They have to stop her. You can never trust a vampire.

 

He looks back up at Isabelle. Something about this seems -  _familiar._ He has been here too many times. You see a lot of death and misfortune in this line of work, as a cop, as a  _werewolf,_ but Luke knows this specifically.

 

"I can't believe I didn't notice this before," he says. "I think I need the Institute's database to see if I'm right, though."

 

"About what?"

 

"I'll fill you in on the way."

 

Isabelle doesn't ask questions, only watches Luke instruct Alaric to take care of the body and then follows. They both miss the feeling of home. Valentine is dead, but there is never any safety.

 

 

* * *

 

"Hey, uh, hey, Raphael. Listen, I know I fucked up big time and you have every right to want me dead. You know, it's whatever, I totally get it. But I really need to talk to you. Call me back."

 

Simon locks his phone, sets it next to him on the night stand. This is the eighteenth message that he's left. Raphael is either ignoring him, or he's just incredibly busy. Or maybe Camille found him, maybe he's  _dead,_ maybe that's why the clan is going crazy and killing mundanes. The thought fills up Simon's mind: Raphael dead. 

 

Oh. Raphael, he realizes now, only wanted to  _help_ him. He gave Simon blood and a home and  _acceptance -_ or at least the slightest amount of acceptance - and Simon messed everything up. Raphael has every right to want him dead. Simon deserves it. He was trying to help Clary. Jocelyn is like family to him. He'll have to understand. He  _has_ to. 

 

If he's still around.

 

Simon closes his eyes and tries to banish every dead Raphael thought from his mind. Instead he thinks about his mother and Rebecca. They must be worried about him, they must be _terrified._ They must be as scared as Simon is. Simon thinks about Clary, tries to banish the thought of family from his mind. Nothing is ever permanent. Clary is never going to be permanent. This isn't working. He tries to think about his favorite TV shows as a kid, video games he'd play for hours and hours, comic books he would read, but nothing comes to mind. He's panicking. He's panicking.

 

And the door opens.

 

"Magnus, I'm sorry but I'm not in the mood for talking right now."

 

"Do you want trouble? Is that it? Because if you call me one more time, I'm going to throw every single phone in the Hotel DuMort into the ocean."

 

"What?"

 

Simon opens his eyes.

 

It's pathetic how high he jumps when he sees Raphael standing in front of him. It's pathetic. It's absolutely _pathetic._

 

"How did you find me?"

 

"I have my ways," Raphael sighs. "But I'm glad we're getting the chance to talk. I need to tell you something."

 

He's moving closer. Simon is moving backwards, still jumping, still pathetic. "Um, okay. What is it?"

 

Raphael sits down next to him. "See, because of you, most of the fledglings in the clan have taken Camille's side. There are only a few of us left, only a few that remain loyal to me, and none of them are bonded to her."

 

"Okay? And?"

 

"Which is why I need you. You're going to fix this problem."

 

"I am?" Simon asks, stupidly. He'd rather have Raphael kill him than _need_ him.

 

"Yes. She's your sire, you use that bond to find her. I suggest you do it fast. I'm not a very patient person."

 

"Okay," Simon says. "Fine.  _How_ do I use my bond or whatever to find her? Is it like a vision thing? Or do I just get a feeling or what?"

 

Raphael places a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it. "Figure that out on your own."

 

He stands up and moves towards the door. Simon bites his lip -  _this is his chance._ He doesn't know what he's going to do. Neither of them know what they're going to do. Around each other, nothing is impossible.

 

"Wait," Simon says. 

 

Raphael stops. Silence.

 

"I'm sorry. For letting Camille out, I mean. I just wanted to help Clary. You get that, right? Either way, I'm - I'm so sorry. Really."

 

Then Raphael turns to him, just slightly, just the  _slightest_ look in Simon's direction. "I don't know how."

 

"What?"

 

"I don't know how to find someone with a sire bond. I've never done it. The man who turned me was... not someone I wanted to be near ever again."

 

"Oh," Simon says.

 

"But you'll figure it out. You have to figure it out, because if you really are sorry, you'll do what I tell you and find Camille."

 

Every bit of softness in Raphael's voice is gone. The softness was only present in unneeded breaths, in a handful of words. Was it ever even  _there?_ Raphael is not a soft person, Simon can never imagine him being anything but bitter and sarcastic, but for a moment, Simon thought -

 

No.

 

Raphael leaves and Simon throws himself back on his bed.  _Find Camille,_ he thinks.  _It can't be that hard._

 

* * *

 

"Hey, what's going on?"

 

"Alec," Luke says, pulling himself away from the computer and turning to face him. "I think we might have a lead on Camille."

 

"Wait," Alec says, voice just a little bit higher than its usual deep, monotone sound.  He sounds _excited._ Luke has never heard Alec's voice sound  _excited_ about his work. "Really?"

 

Isabelle, from next to Luke, presses a few buttons on the screen. "Luke figured out that the vampire attacks we've been seeing have been mostly centralized in one area downtown."

 

She shows Alec the map of where each dead body was discovered, each one represented by a bright red dot on the screen that itself represents the entirety of Brooklyn. They're all very close to each other, each death separated from the next by only a few streets. 

 

"So, you think Camille's hiding out somewhere around there?" he asks.

 

"No," Isabelle admits. "She's too smart for that. There are definitely vamps there, though, and we think that they know where she is. They'll just need some persuasion."

 

"Hold on," Luke interrupts. "Persuasion?"

 

"I mean I think we'll need help. From a certain warlock who knows her and can tell them the  _truth_ about Camille. And, if everything doesn't work out, he has the whole intimidation thing going on."

 

"We are  _not_ bringing Magnus into this," Alec says, voice normal again but full of emotion -  _Magnus can't do this. He can, he's capable, but Alec won't ask him to. It's not **fair.**_

 

"That's not a good idea," Luke adds. "We'll figure something else out. Maybe I can get the pack to come and help. They might not have experience with Camille, but they  _are_ intimidating."

 

"Right," Isabelle says. "Yeah, right. I - sorry."

 

"It's okay," Luke says. "Don't worry. No matter what, we'll find her."

 

* * *

 

Jace never bites his nails. Jace is never nervous, Jace never paces, Jace never shakes. Jace is never  _scared._ Isabelle has the results. Isabelle has their future on a paper and Jace is biting his nails, nervous, shaking. Jace is a mess. Clary shouldn't have to see him like this. Clary, across from him, looks  _calm,_ which fills Jace with uncontrollable jealousy. How can she be calm here?

 

He doesn't know what he wants. There are so many things in his mind -  _what if we are related, what if we aren't, what if I don't want this, what if she doesn't want me, what if it's all ruined, what if. What if._

 

"Hey," Clary says, apparently noticing his discomfort. "It's going to be fine. Whatever happens, it's all going to be fine."

 

Jace laughs. "How are you doing it?"

 

"How am I doing what?"

 

"Being calm," Jace says quietly. "I don't get it. We're about to find out if we're related or not, and it doesn't seem to bother you at all."

 

"Jace..."

 

"I wish I was calm, but I'm not. And I  _hate_ that."

 

"I need to talk to you about something," she says suddenly, and raises a hand to her mouth. She's going to ruin everything. Jace loves her. She can't do this, she  _can't_ tell him - I don't think I love you. I don't think I want to be with you. We're better off as friends. Jace loves her, but this was never right. Clary ruins and ruins and  _ruins._

 

"Okay, what is it?"

 

Clary sighs.

 

The door opens and Isabelle walks out. Isabelle, her savior. Isabelle is saving her from the discomfort. Isabelle always saves her.

 

"Well?" Jace asks.

 

"Looks like you two aren't related at all," she says, smiling wide, smiling  _bright._ "Congratulations."

 

They both sigh. Jace's sigh is out of relief, but Clary - Clary's sigh is full of dread.

 

Jace doesn't think when he kisses her, only moves quickly; he's going to force himself to want this now, because he's supposed to want this, this is what he's  _supposed_ to feel. Right? Right? Right?

 

Isabelle whispers something like  _I'll leave you two alone,_ walks out of sight, and Clary doesn't kiss back, just pushes him away. She's ruining it. This is all wrong. "Listen, Jace," she says hesitantly. "I've been thinking, and..."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"I don't think I ever liked you. Like that, I mean."

 

Jace feels himself break apart for one moment. Then he's mended, put back together by some unknown force. Relief. More and more relief. "Oh," he says.

 

"I love you. I do, but I think... just as a friend. I'm so sorry."

 

"It's fine," Jace says. "I have to go."

 

The walk back to Jace's room is a blur of sound and color, eyes unfocusing and refocusing. Jace will force himself to feel heartbreak. Once again, he'll fight his emotions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK! .


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